—Prof. Triadesches BallettSlinks
A major minority, found in the smaller crevices and tangled sections of the Ship, are the catlike Slinks. They thrive in the subspaces beneath major constructions and cultures, quiet observers and actors of the tumult that is culture. Some are put off by their perpetually-surly expressions or non-indicative personalities, or strange interpersonal relations and ancestor-worship—and they don't care, for the most part. For they are not bothered by the influences of others.
Being much closer to their genetic compatriots and of a small population has given Slinks the opportunity to do away with extraneous social niceties, to change to at two points simpler and more complex habits. Communication of oneself is done through personal scent, from oils and spices—honey, and cinnamon, and juniper—to convey a whole self and set of expected actions without wasting breath or time; while intricate and meaningful tattoos are done and modified to convey wealth and social status, interests, past and future. They carry their entire selves with them, and present it with every step, every twitch of the ears.
|The eponymous Nicholas Krupkin |
(Real name unknown)
Slinks are not large beings: on the average about three to four feet tall, the tallest and longest being halfway to five at most. Like most mammals they are warm-blooded and care for their natal offspring—unlike most, they lack any hair beyond a colourless fuzz that does next to nothing for warmth. Their stature can shift from bipedal to quadrupedal, and their lengthy tails allow for very strange balance. Their voices are not very developed, and spoken language is difficult—written or finger-language, on the other hand, is near second-nature. Against all stereotype, they do not mind water but for its coldness. Weak, but dextrous and almost twitchy, reliant on their sense of smell.
- (+2 Motion) or (Skill: Climb)
- (Skill: Decipher Symbol) or (+2 Luck)
- (-2 Body) or (-1 v. Poison)
Art by Zarnala.